Twisted
by marble eyes
Summary: Stiles wakes up in a world where his best friend has been dead for two years and there is apparently no such thing as werewolves. Is he mad like all the doctors at Eichen house claim? Or is there something else going on? And could the mysterious person watching him actually be Derek?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello and welcome to my first Teen Wolf fic, which is in two parts. I must warn that I have little knowledge of the American health service as I am a Brit, so I apologise in advance for any errors/Britisms and my incorrect creative licenses that may slip in. This fic is set around the end of S3, but Allison didn't die in this time line. I have already written the final part and it just needs proofing, so if you like this fic please review…as it may make me post it just that little bit faster. I hope you enjoy reading! **

Stiles awoke to silence, white noise that seemed to have no end like the ocean on the horizon. He let out a long groan and slowly opened his eyes, trying to ignore the metallic taste in his mouth. An unfamiliar white room came into view, he tried to raise his arm but found it too heavy. Stiles tried again, but this time realised that it was bound painfully to his side.

'Help.' He whispered breathlessly, the world swimming in and out of focus. 'Help!'

'Quiet it down idiot,' hissed a voice to his left. 'Don't you think you did enough screaming last night?'

'No I will not quiet it down dude.' Replied Stiles. 'I have woken up tied to God knows what, I think this warrants some screaming!'

'Oh' said the voice, it was achingly familiar 'You talk now?'

'Of course I can talk, I do little else.' Replied Stiles, 'Which is why if you think you've picked an easy hostage just because I'm human, you've lucked out big time. I'm not going to shut up until you let me go, so I hope you've got some ear plugs.'

'What are you talking about?' said the voice, sounding even more annoyed – if that was possible. 'I wait for you to show some shred of sanity away from all that crazy werewolf shit you kept muttering about and this is what I get when you do. What a let down.'

Stiles breathed in deeply, his brain finally alert with recognition. 'Jackson?'

'No shit,' the voice sneered.

'What are you doing here?' asked Stiles, trying to ignore the pounding of his own heart. 'You're meant to be in London, living it up big. Did they get you too?'

Jackson let out a bitter laugh. 'London? I've never been to London. Whatever pills they've been giving you, I want them.'

Stiles began to breathe in and out, in then out. His chest was tightening and the world was tilting. 'Is this some sick joke? Because it's not funny any more Jackson.' He began to struggle against the straps holding him to the bed. Stiles desperately tried to catch a glimpse of his fingers. He needed to count them; he needed to see eight of them and two thumbs.

He could hear screaming and it was getting louder and louder. It only took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from his own mouth.

'Get someone in here now!' shouted Jackson, it sounded as if he was banging on a metal door. 'He is going crazy!'

Stiles eyes just managed to adjust to the light that burst into the room, before there was a sharp pain in his arm and he knew no more.

**TW**

A little while later Stiles was awoken by soft talking, he shifted slowly and was relieved to find that his arms were no longer pinned to his side like heavy weights.

'He was talking?' asked a voice, not any voice…his Dad's voice, 'like actual talking?'

'According to Jackson he was,' replied another voice.

'Jackson?' said his Dad, letting out a snort. 'The kid that's in here because he's a compulsive liar? That really fills me with hope, Doc.'

Stiles let out a groan, alerting what he assumed to be two men that he was now awake. He tried to lift himself up, but his whole body just felt just too heavy. Stiles heard footsteps come over to his bed and was relieved to see his Dad's worried face hovering over him. His Dad reached out and put a reassuring hand on Stiles's cheek.

'It's alright son, I'm here now.'

'Dad?' Stiles whispered.

His Dad's face rapidly switched from emotion to emotion in rapid succession. 'Stiles?' he whispered, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

'That's my name…well it's not, but it's what I like to be called.' He tried to force a smile. Something bad must have happened, something really bad.

'Jesus.' His Dad said, he tugged Stiles up into a sitting position and then wrapped his arms around him. Holding so tight that Stiles wasn't sure how he was still breathing.

'It's alright.' Said Stiles; softly patting his Dad's back. He could feel the tears leaking through his PJs and onto his shoulder. 'I'm alright; you can't get rid of me that easily, no matter how much you would like to sometimes. You're stuck with me.'

Stiles expected his words to reassure his Dad, but they only caused him to shake even more as he clung to his son. He bit his lip and noticed the other man in the room was watching them both with open curiosity.

'Did I have an accident?' he finally asked. Where was Scott? He expected his best friend to be there, he always was after their misadventures that ended in a hospital visit. He raked his brain, trying to remember something…anything that could explain how he had ended up in hospital.

'Something like that.' His Dad replied, voice rough with emotion. He pulled away smiling, looking at Stiles as if he couldn't get enough of the sight of him. 'But you're okay? You're back now?'

'Mr Stilinski,' said the doctor behind his Dad, his voice laced with warning.

'It's fine,' said Stiles, glaring at the intruder. 'We're fine. What happened?'

Stiles again tried to remember how he had ended up in hospital, but was drawing a blank. He was almost sure he'd fallen asleep at his desk while researching something for Scott. Had he been kidnapped in the middle of the night? Was Jackson involved? Maybe this was all some sick joke, but the expression on his Dad's face told him otherwise.

'You had an accident son. You went away, but you're back now.' his Dad said, trying desperately to hide the emotion in his voice.

Stiles frowned and looked around in confusion. 'Where's Scott'

His Dad looked at the doctor, almost as if asking for permission to say something. The doctor shook his head. 'He's gone away, but I'm sure he would be happy if he could see you now.'

Stiles couldn't help but feel a little hurt. He was in hospital and his best bro had gone off on holiday, he quickly pushed the feeling away. 'Was it something to do with Allison?'

'Allison?' asked his Dad in confusion.

'You know Allison, brown hair…looks like Bambi. She and Scott are constantly on and off again and run around like they are love's young dream. Make the rest of us throw up a little in out mouths whenever we're around them.'

His Dad's face showed no recognition.

'You know Allison, Dad.' Said Stiles, trying to ignore the desperation in his own voice. What the hell was going on?

'I think that's enough for today,' said the doctor in the corner.

'Seriously dude!' said Stiles, 'Who asked you?'

The doctor let out a long sigh. 'I am managing your care and recovery program at the moment.'

'Why don't you manage it somewhere else?' said Stiles rudely.

His Dad let out a laugh. Stiles turned and looked at him.

'When can I go home?'

'Mr Stilinski!' said the doctor again.

His Dad ignored him. 'Soon kido, as soon as I can get them to agree.'

'Don't you think you're getting a bit carried away?' said the doctor, 'We don't even know if this development is permanent or temporary. For all we know any trigger could send him right back to square one. Your son is going to need weeks, months even, of psychological and medical testing before we can even consider…'

Stiles closed his eyes. 'Make him stop talking,' he moaned.

His Dad reached out and pulled Stiles into another hug. 'I think I better listen to the man, just this once.'

'It's for the best,' said the doctor.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. 'I am here you know and seriously Dad, you're listening to a man who has _that_ moustache.'

His Dad grinned at him. 'I'll be back tomorrow son, I promise.'

Stiles felt his chest fill with panic. 'But you only just got here; I need you to tell me what happened.' He said desperately trying to think of other reasons to make him stay.

'Tomorrow.' Said his Dad, 'If they agree, I will explain everything; but you need rest.'

'I don't want rest,' said Stiles in his most childish voice. It had no affect on his Dad, who was following the doctor out of the door.

'I love you son,' he said softly.

'Love you too,' said Stiles, he threw himself back down into his pillows. A little while later he found himself drifting off to sleep.

**TW**

When Stiles next awoke he was in a different room with two cold eyes watching him. He shot up in shock; trying to calm his heart beat and realising it was just Jackson again.

'Dude,' he said, swallowing hard. 'This is starting to get a little creepy. Like Peter Hale creepy. Haven't you got anything better to do than watch me sleep?'

Jackson rolled his eyes. 'Don't flatter yourself Stilinski. There is nothing to do in this hell hole and so now you're my new television show: cured wonder boy. Personally I wish there was something else on, this channel is getting a bit boring and repetitive.'

Stiles rubbed his eyes. 'You could always go and stare at yourself in the mirror, or what ever it is you used to do in your spare time.'

'Don't pretend for even one second that you know anything about me.' Said Jackson darkly.

Stiles glanced over at him, trying to figure something out. Sure Jackson had always been a jerk, but this didn't feel like the Jackson he knew. This Jackson seemed colder some how, more rough around the edges. Had London done this to him? How had he ended up back here?

Stiles licked his lips slowly. 'Okay, maybe I don't know you…but maybe you know what happened to me?'

Jackson seemed to consider him for a moment, before a vicious smile came to his lips. 'I may know some things…'

Stiles tried to keep his features completely neutral and still. It was as if Jackson was some animal he was trying not to scare off as he edged closer to it, closer to the truth. 'Do you?'

'But you're the last person I would tell.' said Jackson. He let out a savage laugh; it started low but began to get louder and louder. His laughter was getting more manic by the second.

The door to the room opened and Stiles ran towards it. He had had enough of Jackson's crazy for one day already.

'Your father is here Stiles,' said a woman. It wasn't just any woman, it was Ms. Morrell. She seemed unconcerned with Jackson's behaviour. Like it was the norm or something.

Jackson stopped laughing and instead fixed Stiles with a dead eyed stare. Stiles couldn't stop the icy shiver that ran the whole way down his spine. For a moment Jackson looked like the Kanima again. Stiles slipped out of the room and away from Jackson so quickly, that he almost missed his special new roommate's parting words.

'Werewolves, hours of mindless babble about werewolf shit…but there's no werewolves here to save you now Stilinski, you're on your own. You're on your own.'

Stiles swallowed hard and continued forward, trying to keep up with Ms. Morrell who was walking fast down corridor. He stopped dead, knowing exactly why the hospital seemed familiar. It wasn't a hospital, it was Eichen House.

'Oh no,' said Stiles softly, holding onto a nearby wall in an attempt to stay up right. 'No, no, no.'

Ms. Morrell turned and walked back towards him, her face was hard and expressionless.

'No, no, no.' said Stiles, his breathing becoming more and more erratic. He was panicking, he couldn't breathe. 'What did I…what did I do?' he whispered, trying desperately to catch his breath.

'Mr Stilinski.' Said Ms. Morrell calmly. 'You need to calm down.'

Stiles let out a breathless laugh. 'Calm down? I'm back here, in this place. Did it happen again? Did I hurt someone, please tell me I didn't hurt someone. I don't remember anything and everything is weird, that can't be a coincidence, right?'

Ms. Morrell refused to look him in the eye and instead grabbed his arm, her grip vice-like. 'We haven't got time for this.'

Stiles dug his nails into the wall, finally managing to calm his breathing. 'You don't, but I do. Please, please tell me what I did. I need to fix it'

Ms. Morrell didn't answer him and instead began to pulling him along through the maze of corridors that was Eichen house.

'Seriously, you need to stop.' Said Stiles angrily, trying to pull his arm away from her. 'You're going to pull my arm out. I can walk by myself!'

Ms. Morrell finally did stop when they reached a polished door, it was only then she finally looked Stiles in the eyes. 'You need to listen very carefully; we only have this time to talk and it needs to count. In a minute you are going to go through that door and into a room. In that room they will be assessing your mental health and deciding whether we should start rehabilitating you for release. You agree and accept what ever they tell you.'

Stiles opened and closed his mouth, his brain ready to explode with confusion. 'But…'

'No buts Stiles. No matter what they say you have to remember this one thing: there is no such thing as werewolves.' She finally let go of his hand. 'Now go in.'

Stiles swallowed hard. 'Aren't you going to go in with me?'

Ms. Morrell looked torn. 'I can't, I'm not even meant to be here in the first place. But I know you can do this Stiles; you can adapt and survive what ever they throw at you.'

'Okay,' said Stiles quietly. 'I can do this.' He raised his hand and knocked quietly on the door. 'I can do this, I'm not going to panic and go hide under the seats in my jeep in the hope that nobody finds me no matter how good the idea sounds.'

'Enter.' Said a male voice.

As Stiles reached to turn the handle of the door, he turned to thank Ms. Morrell but realised she had disappeared; as if by magic.

'Okay no need to freak out,' said Stiles quietly to himself, 'it's normal for people to pop in and out of hallways like characters out of Harry Potter. Nothing abnormal there, nothing to worry about.' In a minute he was going to wake up from this weird dream and find himself back at his desk.

Stiles stepped into the room and was relieved to see his Dad inside, for a minute he forgot he was seventeen and practically threw himself at his Dad and hugged him. He clung on tightly, not caring that any reputation he had was fast going out the window.

'You okay son?' asked his Dad softly.

'I am now you're here.' Replied Stiles, he finally let go of his Dad and looked at the other two men in the room: one was smartly dressed from yesterday and the other was in scrubs with an impressive collection of injections. 'Are those for me?' he asked, eyeing the needles 'You shouldn't have.'

The man in the scrubs frown deepened, giving Derek's unhappy scowl a run for its money. Speaking of Derek, where was he and why hadn't he visited? Yes they argued most of the time, but they were pack and had a mutual respect for one another. Pack always looked out for pack.

'Would you like to sit down?' asked the smartly dressed doctor. 'We have a lot to discuss this morning. I'm Doctor Williams.'

Stiles nodded, but didn't reach out to shake the Doctor's outstretched hand. The guy gave him the creeps, there was something not quite right about him. The Doctor didn't let Stiles's reluctance faze him and instead slid a bowl of something grey across the table towards him.

'Dude, what is that?' asked Stiles, pulling a face. What ever was in the bowl did not look like it was from this planet; it looked like sludge from some alien film.

Doctor Williams raised an eyebrow. 'You eat this every day Stiles,'

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but remembered Ms. Morrell's warning words. 'Well maybe today I want a change…not any curly fries under that desk by any chance, is there?'

'You're best to eat that son, but when you get out I will buy you all the curly fries you could ever want.' Said Stiles's Dad.

The Doctor shook his head at his Dad.

'You shouldn't be committing to ideas like that, not when it's still early days.' Said the Doctor.

'Right here again dude.' Said Stiles, with a little unimpressed wave. It seemed they were both used to talking about him like he was invisible, the thought unnerved Stiles even more. Stiles picked up the bowl of grey sludge and popped a spoon full into his mouth, it tasted awful. He placed it back down on the table, looking around hopefully for some type of sugar.

'I'm sorry Stiles.' Said the Doctor, 'But you must understand your recovery has been remarkable. In the space of a day you have gone from being almost catatonic to well…normal. We will be running tests to check how you are functioning, but at the minute it is as if there is nothing at all wrong with you.'

'So, can I go home?' asked Stiles, trying to process what the Doctor was trying to tell him. 'Catatonic?'

'Do you have any memories over the last two years?' asked Doctor Williams.

Stiles opened and then closed his mouth, all his memories seemed to involve werewolves and the supernatural and Ms. Morrell had made it clear that it was a no go area. 'I remember bits.'

'Do any of them involve being here?'

'Some of them,' replied Stiles, trying to be as elusive as possible. He wasn't lying; he had been here before and had memories of the place.

Doctor Williams glanced over at his colleague in the scrubs, as if signalling him that he might be needed. 'Stiles you have been a patient in Eichen house for nearly two years.'

Stiles looked at the doctor and then felt something bubble over in his stomach; he began to laugh loudly and once he started, he couldn't seem to stop. 'Very funny,' he said standing up. 'You almost had me there; come on guys the joke is over…you can all come out now.' He waved his arms looked around hopefully, waiting for his friends to materialise out the corners of the room.

'Sit down Stiles.' Said his Dad.

Stiles sat down automatically, finally noticing that the man in the scrubs had been edging towards him with a needle. Stiles felt the laughter die on his lips as he looked at the expression on his Dad's face, none of this was a joke. He sank very low in his seat; his chest was becoming tight again.

'You're not joking?' said Stiles.

'No,' said Doctor Williams.

'What happened?' asked Stiles, it seemed he had lost two years of his life. Did that mean he was twenty? Was that why Scott wasn't here? It would make sense that no-one had come to visit, two years was a long time to wait for someone to wake up from wherever it was he'd been.

'You were involved in a road accident.' Said his Dad finally. 'A bad accident, for a while they didn't think you were going to make it.' His face was pained with trying to hide his emotion. 'When you woke up, you were no longer you.'

Stiles bit his lip hard, trying to calm down his racing heart. 'What do you mean no longer me?'

Doctor Williams pushed a glass of water towards Stiles. 'You were in a near catatonic state; you would spend hours staring into space. You would walk when prompted, but you never showed any awareness of your surroundings. The only time we heard you talk was when you whispered about things like werewolves or foxes.'

Stiles pushed himself back up his chair. They had to be joking right? This had to be some type of supernatural trick. 'Who are you?' asked Stiles, finally deciding to examine the man in front of him.

'Your doctor Stiles.' Said Doctor Williams calmly.

Stiles snorted at his answer. 'Yes, I'm sure you are. As much as I would like to believe your little make believe story…I don't. Which means that you're working for someone and this isn't real. What ever it is you want from Scott, you won't get it.'

'Son,' said his Dad softly. 'Scott's dead.'

Stiles felt the entire world fall from under his feet. 'You're lying! If Scott was dead I'd know, we have a connection…we're closer than brothers.'

'He died in the car accident you were involved in two years ago. You sneaked out in the middle of the night after hearing we'd found a body in the woods, on the drive there, there was another car and it hit yours. It was a tragic accident, Scott was declared dead at the scene.' His Dad said the story mechanically, almost as if he was used to telling people it.

Stiles stood up quickly, his chair falling to the floor behind him. 'I don't believe you!' he ran to the door and tried to pull it open, but it wouldn't budge. 'I don't believe you!' he cried, his finger nails frantically scraping at the wood.

A sharp prick in the back of his neck made Stiles realise what a mistake his reaction had been. But it was too late; the world was slowly swimming in and out of focus. All he could see was a blur of memories, his entire life with Scott flashing before his eyes. Scott couldn't be dead; he couldn't live in a world without him. A few tears slid out from the corner of his eyes, before he once again knew no more.

**TW**

Hell. Stiles was in hell. A hell where every morning he would wake up and hope that he would be in his own bed, but he never was. The days since he'd arrived in this place were all starting to blur into one. It was as if he'd jumped down some rabbit hole into a different world, but Stiles didn't even remember following the rabbit in the first place.

'What do you see in this in this picture?'

Stiles glanced at the piece of card the woman sat behind a desk was showing him. 'Darth Vader fighting a mountain lion.' He answered, not even bothering to look properly. He hated this woman and her stupid ink cards.

She let out a long sigh and put down the card. 'We can't help you if you won't let us Mr Stilinski.'

Stiles let out a snort. 'I'm sorry, I'm totally going to be fine with the fact you guys keep trying to convince me that my best friend is dead and I've imagined the last two years of my life. Because anyone else in my situation would be totally fine with that too.'

The woman looked at him with warm and understanding eyes, it made Stiles hate her even more.

'We're not saying that you're lying about the last two years Mr Stilinski, we're just trying to help you realise the reality of the situation. You can't start to get better until you accepted the facts about what happened the night of the car accident you were involved in.'

Stiles rolled his eyes. 'That's because the car accident never happened, how many more times do I have to tell you?'

He looked down at his shoes, wondering if he would be able to return home if he tapped them together three times? He wanted to go home; he was desperate to go home. He missed Scott, he missed his own Dad who didn't look at him as if he might break any minute and strangely he even missed Derek. A part of him briefly wondered if the other man would be proud of the practice Stiles had been putting in to master his trade mark glare. He was getting good at it, but of course he'd never be as good as Derek.

'But it didn't happen and you need to accept that and start the grieving process.' She replied. 'The sooner you begin to show signs of progress, the sooner you will get to go home.'

Stiles shook his head, desperately trying to drown out her words. If going home meant accepting Scott was dead, then he would happily stay in Eichen house forever…there was no home without Scott.

**TW**

Jackson placed his tray down next to Stiles, his reptile eyes fixed on his face. Stiles tried not to let out a groan. It was day fourteen in his own personal hell and usually the days that involved Jackson sucked even worse than the others. Today almost all the patients were sitting outside eating dinner and Stiles finds making conversation with any of them usually doesn't end well.

'Dude, take a picture…it'll last longer.' Said Stiles, pushing at the gruel on his plate with his spoon. He was never going to be able to eat porridge or soup again after this. 'Is this a social visit? Because people are going to start to talk if we spend even more time together than we already do and I'm still not fine with the whole watching me sleep thing that you keep doing.'

Jackson's face doesn't change. 'Any one tell you why I'm in here Stilinski?'

Stiles pushed his tray away from himself. 'No, but I bet you're going to tell me. And please don't tell me it's just for the gourmet food and spa treatments.'

'I killed a man.' Said Jackson, he looked intently at Stiles for any type of reaction.

Stiles refuses to look away, he'd faced werewolves and all sorts of other type of supernatural creatures. He wasn't going to let Jackson intimidate him. Even if the Jackson of this world was his psychotic roommate. 'Okay.'

'Is that all you're going to say?' asked Jackson, looking confused for a moment.

'Dude, nothing in this messed up world surprises me any more.' Answered Stiles.

Jackson continues to stare at him without blinking. 'He was a mechanic, I took my car in to be repaired and he scratched it. He scratched my car, so I let one that he was fixing crush his bones to powder.'

Stiles clenched his fists, trying to ignore the urge to punch Jackson. He didn't sound one bit sorry, he almost sounded proud.

'They say I have anger issues, that I can't form emotional human attachments. But that wasn't why I did it; I did it because I loved the sound his bones made as the car crushed him.' Jackson face twisted into a smile, a proud smile.

Stiles stood up quickly, suddenly feeling less hungry than before. They wouldn't let him have solids yet any way, something about his stomach needing to adapt after being spoon fed mush for nearly two years. He practically felt he was wasting away on the mouthful of gruel. If he ever got back to his own world he was never letting curl fries out of his sight ever again.

'Well as much as I've enjoyed our whole sharing is caring thing, I think I hear Beth calling me.' Stiles was relieved that Jackson didn't seem to remember that Beth hadn't apparently said a word to anyone in the last five years. 'We should do this again sometime; I'll check my diary and get back to you.'

Stiles stood up and walked away from the outside tables, not exactly sure where he was going. He needed to get out of this place and fast. He needed to get home and soon because deep down he was starting to doubt his self. The whole werewolf thing had been so unbelievable when Scott was bitten; maybe the whole thing wasn't real. What if the last two years actually hadn't happened? What if this was the real world? Could his imagination really have created such a colourful world? Had he imagined Derek too? In the world he had come from, people like him and Scott could be heroes…was it all just a little bit too Marvel to be real?

He was so distracted that he almost walked into one of the walls that surrounded Eichen house. Stiles tried to ignore the growing loneliness in the pit of his stomach, he wanted to go home. He needed a sign, anything that would tell him what to do next.

Stiles looked wishfully through the gate leading to the outside world. Knowing even if he did escape Eichen house, there was still no guarantee he would be able to return to his own world. But he wasn't giving up; he couldn't give up on Scott. A movement outside the gate caught his eye, he stepped towards it and managed to glimpse something dart back into the trees. He opened his mouth to shout out, but knew how useless it would be. He could sense that he was alone again, whatever it was outside the gates was now gone. But for a moment Stiles could have sworn he'd seen a glimpse of leather and dark hair.

**TW**

Day twenty eight started in the usual way for Stiles: he woke up only to realise he was in fact still in hell, went to breakfast and tried to force down a disgusting bowl of whatever coloured gruel they're feeding him today, took his medication and then tried to keep his brain from exploding with how mundane before it was time for bed. It's the same routine every day, like some washer rinse cycle. Stiles feels as if he really is about to explode, he isn't sure how much longer he can last in here. He's never talked so much about his feelings his whole life and when he gets out of Eichen he never plans to again.

It is a surprise when one of the members of staff gives him his normal clothes to dress in and escorted him to a room he's never been before. His own clothes feel weird to him; stiff and baggy as if they haven't been worn for years. He can't help but be surprised that the hoodie he's been given to put on is one that was destroyed almost a year ago during one of his adventures with Scott.

Stiles practically jumps into his Dad's arms again the minute he spots him in the room, not caring any one else thinks. It seems his Dad is the only one he has left in this messed up world, which means he's going to cling onto him for as long as possible.

'Hey kiddo,' said his Dad softly. 'You okay?'

'Yeah, as good as I can be. I mean the service here isn't great and you wouldn't feed their food to a dog. But it ticks all the boxes for a creepy haunted house that would be well at home in an episode of Scooby-Doo. So I guess I can't rate them that badly on trip advisor.' Said Stiles into his Dad's shoulder.

His Dad pulled away from Stiles, holding him at arms length to get a good look at him. 'I'm taking you home son.'

Stiles stared at him in confusion. 'Home?' he can hear the sound of his own heart beating wildly in his chest.

'Just for twenty four hours, but your Doctor says if it goes well we will start the process of making it into a permanent move.' His Dad can't hide the smile on his face.

'Really?' asked Stiles. 'Like really, really?'

'That's what I said.' Replied his Dad.

Stiles practically jumped up in joy. 'This is…I can't…just awesome! This is like totally the best thing to happen in like forever, well since the whole waking up in a world where everything is backwards thing. Can we have curly fries? Please tell me this world has curly fries!'

His Dad smiled at him fondly. 'It has curly fries.'

'Yes!'

**TW**

Stiles stared hungrily out the patrol car window the entire journey home. The town looks exactly the same, as if he hadn't been away but that wasn't hard with Beacon Hill. As they pull into the drive way Stiles looked around excitedly for his jeep and was disappointed to notice that it wasn't there.

'Where's my Jeep?' asked Stiles.

His Dad gave him an odd look as he pulled up the hand break. 'It was beyond repair.'

'Oh,' Stiles tried to ignore the burning behind his eyes, another piece of home torn from him.

'When you're a bit better I was thinking we could go out and look for a new one.' Said his Dad.

'Okay.' Said Stiles softly, though it wasn't okay. Nothing was going to replace his Mum's jeep. A new car wouldn't bring Scott back from the dead. 'Maybe I could get a flashy red sports car; I always wanted one of those. Imagine Scott's face when I…' he trailed off.

His Dad placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'It will get easier son.'

'I know.' Answered Stiles, knowing he was lying.

'When your mother died, I thought life would never be normal again. But you learn to cope and survive; Scott wouldn't want you to be unhappy son. You have so much more to give.' Said his Dad.

Stiles opened the car door and jumped out; deciding running away from this emotional moment with his Dad was the best course of action. 'Are you going to give me the grand tour of the old place?'

'Sure,' said his Dad, he stepped out of the car and walked past Stiles. 'Home sweet home.' He opened the door and nodded at Stiles.

Stiles forced a smile and followed his Dad up the porch. He paused at the door as he felt an odd prickly feeling on the back of his neck, as if he was being watched. Stiles turned and looked around, noticing there was no one there.

**TW**

Everything in the house was wrong: upside down, topsy-turvy. It was their house, but it wasn't their house. It was Stiles's room, but it wasn't his room. Walking into the house had not made Stiles feel any easier; it had been too neat and stank of cleaning products. It didn't help his Dad was lingering around behind him, as if waiting for him to explode or break at any time.

The first thing Stiles had done after he had found his bearings was to check the fridge. It was almost a relief to find junk food and things his Dad so wouldn't have been allowed if he'd been there for the last two years. Stiles had almost felt normal as he lectured his Dad about the food groups and how bacon wasn't one of them, no matter how much he loved the taste. The expression on his Dad's face had been almost comical and for the first time in weeks Stiles found himself laughing at him.

But as Stiles now sat in his room that wasn't his room, he began to feel lost again. The room didn't smell like him, it was almost as if someone had made a copy of his room from two years ago and replaced his room with it. Gone were his boards, books and information on anything supernatural. He'd even ripped up the floor board where he kept his really important books on werewolves and found the space empty.

Stiles practically threw himself down on his familiar desk chair, trying to ignore the fact that it now doesn't brokenly dip to one side after that one time Derek came through his bedroom window badly. He pushes away the apparently fake but hilarious memory; according to his doctors Derek never existed so his mind must have been incredibly messed up to create such a gorgeous hot mess. He can think of Derek as hot now without feeling awkward, the guy was a figment of his imagination for God's sake!

'I've ordered us a pizza,' shouted his Dad from downstairs. 'You're okay to eat pizza, aren't you?'

'Yeah.' Lies Stiles, it's not like he's still stuck on his weird mush diet or anything. Well he is, but his Dad doesn't need to know that.

He finally fires up his lap top, checking his Dad isn't lurking behind him as he goes straight to Google. Within seconds all the information he needs is at his fingers as he pulls up articles about the crash that killed his best friend. It wasn't an accident and Scott wasn't the only one to die that night. He finds himself shaking as he reads article after article and sees different pictures of his mangle jeep at different angles. The blood stain on the road

Stiles breathed in and out as he tried to process it all. Victoria and Allison Argent were in the car that hit his jeep that night. It was believed Victoria was suffering from depression and purposefully ran her car into Stiles's jeep in an attempt at suicide…which worked. Nobody stood a chance of getting out the wreck of the two cars that night and it was only by some miracle Stiles had managed to survive, but he was brain damaged and unresponsive to any stimuli. No wonder his Dad had been such a mess, no wonder all the doctors were amazed by his recovery. This world's Stiles had been dead a long time ago, but he wasn't and now he was stuck here. That's if he actually wasn't this world's Stiles after all, as each day passed his belief in who he was getting weaker and weaker. What if he had created the world of werewolves, just like his doctor had suggested?

A movement outside their house caught Stiles's attention; he got up out of his chair and opened his window, sticking his head out of it. There was no one there; maybe it was an animal or something. Stiles finally sat back down in his chair and decided to do one last Google search. As the pizza arrives Stiles finds what he is looking for. He isn't sure if it is the smell of greasy food or the last words in the article he was reading, but he is violently sick into his toilet bowl for nearly five minutes. As he leans his head against the bathroom tiles he can't get the two words from the article about the Hale fire out of his head: No Survivors.

**TW**

'So…' says Doctor Williams, eyeing Stiles with concern. 'How was your stay at home?'

'Great,' replied Stiles. 'I had like an awesome party in which I invited all the friends I've made in the last two years, strangely all the ones from this place RSVP-ed no.'

Doctor Williams wrote something down on her clipboard. 'So it didn't go how you wanted to?'

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. 'What I want is to wake up and for this all to have been some sick dream.'

'But you know that's not possible now?' asked Doctor Williams.

Stiles looked down at his hands. 'Yes.' After being stuck in this place for nearly a month he knows with each day that passes the chances of him returning home are getting slimmer and slimmer.

'This is progress Mr Stilinski.' Said Doctor Williams, smiling thinly at him.

Stiles doesn't see it as progress, he sees it as himself in some ways throwing in the towel. But he will never get home if he continues to stay at Eichen house. At least at home he can research how he got here, even if he is in a world which seems to contain no supernatural things.

'It doesn't feel like progress, not when I know about the people I am letting go of and leaving behind.' Said Stiles.

Doctor Williams took off his glasses. 'But what about the people you left behind whilst you were ill? Don't they deserve a chance to help you?'

'Can't I have both?' asked Stiles, biting his lip. 'Because where I was, I had both and both were pretty great. In fact both was perfect, I just didn't realise until now.'

'A patient once said to me that life is what happens while we're off making other plans. Perhaps this life wasn't in your plans, but it is the one you've been given.' Says Doctor Williams wisely.

'You make it sound like letting go of Scott is that easy.' Said Stiles, 'like I can raise some type of magical wand and make what I know go away. But I can't.'

'No one is asking you to, they are just asking you to survive.'

Stiles swallowed hard. 'What if I can't?'

Doctor Williams let out a sigh. 'Did your father tell you who is paying for your medical treatment?'

Stiles looked at the doctor, wondering why the question hadn't popped up in his own mind. It was probably the whole adapting to a weird place in which you were meant to believe your best bro was dead and you'd be insane for the last two years…that must be it. 'No.'

'It was Chris Argent. The man lost both his wife and daughter that night, but he couldn't face your Dad loosing you too. He would give anything for his daughter to have a second chance; shouldn't you be grasping your second chance with both hands Mr Stilinski?'

'I have all these memories and I know things…how do I know these things if they weren't real?' asked Stiles desperately.

'You've had a lot of outside stimuli the last two years, even in your catatonic state you could have picked up things…the news…conversations. All which help to contribute to the rich tapestry of the world in which you believed you lived in over the last two years.' Said Doctor Williams.

'Even I haven't got that much of an imagination.' Said Stiles, thinking of all the faces and things he'd seen over the past two years. He found himself once again focussing on the image of Derek in his head.

'You would be surprised.' Replied his Doctor. 'We were thinking about releasing you into your Dad's care for a week next time, obviously you will still be asked to attend regular therapy sessions here. Does that sound something you would be happy about?'

'Yes' answers Stiles without hesitation.

'Brilliant, you're doing well Mr Stilinski. Acceptance is the first step in your road to recovery.' Said Doctor Williams. 'We will start to make plans with your High School for you to return, with a lot of tutoring you should only be a year behind your peers.'

'I look forward to it.' Says Stiles, somewhat sarcastically. Because being a year behind everyone he thinks he knows is just another nail in the coffin of this awful world. He is going back to High school, he was going back to High school and this time there would be no Scott. But maybe he'll be able to see Lydia and maybe Lydia will be able to help him.

**TW**

Stiles stared at his own bedroom walls, trying to make some sense out of the research he'd been doing on his lap top. He was pretty much still under house arrest after being released into his Dad's care again and was slowly going insane. He'd taken his Adderall as usual that morning and it still wasn't helping him to focus. Before he could stop himself Stiles found he had left his house and was half way down the road. He kept walking until he finally reached a familiar house, a house he almost knows as well as his own.

He walked up to the front door and for a moment lifted up his hand to knock, but at the last minute thinks better of it. Stiles began to turn away, but the door suddenly opens as if it has a life of its own. He half expects to see a smiling Scott at the door, but instead is startle to find Melissa McCall standing there instead.

Melissa looks older and greyer. There are a number of lines around her eyes that Stiles knew weren't there in his world. She also looks sad; it's as if she's wearing the sadness around her like a veil.

'Stiles.' She says softly, a number of emotions pass across her face.

Stiles looked down at the ground, unable to meet her gaze. 'Hi,' he said awkwardly, for the first time feeling uncomfortable around a woman that has almost been a second mother to him. 'I'm sorry for disturbing you, I just…' he trails off.

'Your Dad mentioned you were getting better.' Said Melissa, 'I didn't realise they'd be releasing you so soon.'

Stiles scratched his head awkwardly, trying to ignore the scar on his head that he still isn't used to being there. 'You know me, even a brain damage can't keep me quiet for too long. And to be honest I thought my Dad was having a too easy time without me.' He laughed awkwardly.

'It's good to see you,' said Melissa, she glanced back over her shoulder. 'I've got to go, but please come round any time Stiles.'

'Yeah, I will.' Lied Stiles, seeing Scott's mum is just as hard for him as it is for her. It makes everything more final, it just highlights the fact that Scott has been ripped from both their lives.

Melissa is just about to close the door when Stiles decides he has to say something.

'Scott loved you,' he says quickly, shifting from foot to foot.

She smiles sadly at him. 'I know,' before closing the door on Stiles.

**TW**

A few days later Stiles let himself through the familiar gate to the cemetery, balancing multiple bunches of flowers (one is even in his mouth) as he closes it behind him. His Dad doesn't know he's escaped the house again and hopefully no one was going to tell on him. It hadn't been easy walking into town either, not when he was used to having full use of his jeep (which apparently was now a chunk of crushed metal somewhere).

He finally came to a stop at Mum's grave, touching the letters on the familiar stone and felt relief that it hasn't disappeared like everything else. He placed all but one bunch of flowers down at it.

'Hey Mum,' he said softly. 'Thought you'd like these, sorry I haven't been here for a while. I'll come a lot more when they officially let me out.'

He stood up and brushed the dirt from the knees of his jeans; knowing today isn't for his Mum but for Scott. It only takes Stiles about two minutes to find Scott's grave; seeing it for real makes Stiles feel as if someone had punched him hard in the gut. He kneeled in front of it; just like he had his Mum's but for once found himself speechless. This was so freaking wrong.

'Hey Buddy,' he finally chokes out, ignoring the burning feeling in his eyes. 'Bet you didn't expect me to visit today, what with the whole being out of action for two years thing. But now that I'm out, they'll have to drag me away.'

Stiles felt a familiar prickle in the back of his neck, but when he looks up he realises he is the only one in the graveyard.

'I'm not giving up on finding a way home, but it's starting to look like it's not going to happen and I'm scared buddy.' Stiles bites down hard on his lip. 'For so long it's been Scott and Stiles and now without you here it's just Stiles. And after everything we've been through the last few years, I don't think I know who just Stiles is any more dude.'

A movement to the side causes Stiles to stand up suddenly, he quickly wipes his cheeks with his hands and isn't surprised by the fact he's been crying. 'I'll be right back buddy, don't you dare tell anyone you've seen me crying because that would be so not cool.'

Stiles swallowed deeply, trying not to let his mind run away from him. Sure he was pretty sure something had been watching him the past few days, but how bad could it be a world where the supernatural doesn't exist? He found himself walking past unfamiliar graves and averts his eyes from looking at the one marked Allison Argent.

He finally stops as he reaches a cluster of graves together, in the place where he could have sworn he'd seen someone. As he finally reaches the spot he sees something that he wishes to God he could un-see: Derek Hale's grave.

'Oh God,' muttered Stiles, feeling the familiar clench in his chest. Was this world just one big lets kicking Stiles when he was down free for all?

'What are you doing here? This is a private plot.'

Stiles practically jumps ten feet into the air. 'Dude! Way to give a guy a heart attack!'

Stiles turned around slowly, feeling his whole body stiffen with the realisation of who is standing behind him. He knows that voice, he knows this man. Before he can stop himself he has thrown himself forward and his arms are around the other man, he clings on hard. He clings on so hard he is pretty sure his fingers are making marks into the other man's leather jacket. But he isn't letting go, not now or ever. It's Derek and Derek is alive.

'What are you doing?' growls Derek. 'Let go.'

Stiles knows that tone of voice anywhere, it pretty much means he has five seconds to let go before Derek rips out of intestines…with his teeth. Stiles finally let go, taking an awkward step back. This Derek doesn't look like his Derek, this Derek is cleanly shaved. Stiles misses the stubble, though annoying it seems every version of Derek Hale has a God like body. Even in this universe Stiles is pale and quite skinny, he really couldn't catch a break.

'Der…' Stiles begins to say, but the expression on this Derek's face isn't friendly. '…ude.'

Derek raises a questionable eyebrow at him. 'Der-ude?'

'It's a new word I'm trying out, in fact a lot of people are using it…haven't you heard anyone use it before?' asks Stiles quickly. He needs to keep talking or Derek might disappear, along with any shred of his sanity. 'Sorry about the whole hugging thing, my bad…brain injury and all that. I seem to like hugging now, hugging strangers…bit awkward. Not that I didn't enjoy the hug, as hugs go it was quite a good hug…well bar the whole you not hugging back thing. Did I mention I had a brain injury?'

'Several times.' Answered Derek.

Stiles finds himself blushing under Derek's intense glare. 'Sorry for disturbing you, I guess I should let you get back to your lurking in quite a creepy way in the cemetery.'

When Derek doesn't answer him, Stiles finds himself unable to move. He's confused and he needs answers. It doesn't help that Derek seems to be staring at him, as if trying to read him like a book.

'Kind of creepy when you stare at me like that dude.' Said Stiles. 'It is basically the look a serial killer would give just before he is about to murder someone. You're not going to murder me, are you?'

Derek's lips twist into a smile. 'Not yet.'

'Good,' said Stiles. Trying to ignore the way his heart was somersaulting in his chest at Derek's smile.

'What happened to your head?' asked Derek, glancing at the jagged scar on Stiles's head.

Stiles reaches out and touches the healed wound, he keeps forgetting it's there. 'I was in a car accident.'

'What happened?' asked Derek.

Stiles feels a little off guard by the concern on the other man's face. 'Still not really sure, my brain is a bit fuzzy. But it seems everyone died, but me. And I am starting to wonder if I'd have been better off dead too because it is all totally messed up.' He felt his cheeks flushing red at the amount of information he has just shared with a random stranger, even if the random stranger looks just like his Derek. And when did Derek become 'his' Derek?

Derek glanced down at the multiple Hale graves in front of him. 'I know how that feels.' He takes one last look at Stiles, as if drinking in the sight of him. 'Derek Hale.'

'Stiles Stilinski.'

Derek smiles almost sadly at him 'I know,'

'Stiles!' shouts a voice from behind him; it sounds like his Dad's.

Stiles turned around and waved at his Dad (who was striding angrily towards him) to signal that he is okay. When he turns back to ask how Derek knows his name, he is bitterly disappointed when he realises that the other man is gone.

**TW**

Stiles doesn't see Derek or anyone else for the next two days, he is under house arrest again. His only company is a ball that he has been throwing up at the ceiling and catching. The ball he has now fondly named Bill. He throws Bill up high again just as his Dad steps into his room, for a moment he is momentarily distracted and gravity decides in that moment to bring Bill back down right onto his head. Bill's a jerk!

'Do you fancy going out for some food son?' asked his Dad, his way of trying to keep the peace.

Stiles rubbed his head, fixing his Dad with a searching look. 'What kind of food?'

'Pizza,' says his Dad without hesitation.

'And what will you be having while I eat this pizza?' asked Stiles.

The smile on his Dad's face falters. 'A salad?'

Stiles smiled brightly at him. 'Right answer!'

Almost an hour later Stiles is almost lying across his side of the booth and ready to pop out a food baby. He tries not to feel guilty at his Dad, who is still poking woefully as his salad. He'd been eating a burger every day according to one of his Deputies before Stiles came back, so he couldn't feel too bad about this.

His dad almost looks relieved as his cell goes off, pushing away his salad with haste. 'Just going to take this call outside.' He said quickly to Stiles.

Stiles lets out a noise he hopes his father takes as an 'okay', before closing his eyes. Drifting into a food coma right now is all he is fit for. When he opens his eyes again he realises someone is standing over him, someone who isn't his Dad. Stiles sits up to abruptly that he bangs his knee hard on the plastic table. Inanimate objects: 2, Stiles: 0.

'Derek.' Said Stiles, trying his best to look cool.

Derek cocked up an eyebrow in amusement. 'Stiles.'

Stiles finds himself momentary lost for words, the two of them just staring at one another. They both break the silence at the same time.

'No hug this time?'

'Are you stalking me?'

Stiles felt his cheeks go red. 'Dude that was one time! And hello, brain injury!' he points at his scar to emphasise his argument.

'That excuse is only going to last for so long,' said Derek.

'Well we can't all hang around in front of our own graves looking cool in our leather coats.' Replied Stiles.

The smirk on Derek's face falters. 'You're not going to tell anyone about that, are you?'

Stiles felt his heart beat a little faster at the vulnerable expression on this Derek's face. He isn't used to see any emotions other than distaste and annoyance usually. There is something soft about this Derek. By now his Derek would have found some hard surface to push him against and ordered him not to say a word. Stiles hoped nobody ever found out that deep down a weird part of him actually enjoyed it.

'Dude, I'm the kid who's just been let out of Eichen house. Even my elderly neighbour waits by her phone, ready to call my Dad at any sign of a relapse when she sees me outside. Who is going to believe me?' He answers.

'Believe what?' says a voice behind them.

Stiles glanced up, noticing his Dad standing behind Derek. He tries to ignore how Derek is looking like a kid who has just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It's hard sometimes to remember that everything is wrong in this world, that really he doesn't know who everyone is any more and they don't know each other.

'Believe how totally awesome I am.' answered Stiles, saving the situation.

Derek raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn't say a word.

'Aren't you going to introduce us?' asks his Dad; he is unconsciously reaching for his gun, which isn't there.

Stiles panics and the next thing he says just slips out of his mouth. 'This is my friend…Miguel.'

Derek slaps his own head.

His Dad looks between the two of them again. 'Son, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable.'

'You don't think he looks like a Miguel?' asks Stiles, trying to fix his Dad with his most judgemental expression.

'You're a terrible liar.' Muttered Derek under his breath.

Stiles began to fidget in his chair. 'Okay, fine. You both want the real story? I'm not this Stiles and I'm not from this world. And Miguel over there is actually Derek, a werewolf and we know each other because I trespassed over his land this one time after Scott got bit. Derek likes to break into my room and push me up against things and I let him. That's how we know each other.'

The expression on Derek's face makes Stiles believe that he may actually never want to see him again.

'You're so totally going to walk out of that door right now, aren't you?' asked Stiles.

Derek gave a silent nod, before turning and disappearing out of the door so fast that he would give the Flash a run for his money.

His Dad slid back into the seat opposite Stiles, looking strangely apologetic. 'I just wanted an honest answer, not some elaborate lie that would scare the poor guy off.'

Stiles let out a loan groan and placed his head onto the table, softly banging it against it. 'I've never seen him look so terrified.' He groaned, remembering all the times Derek had faced down monsters that still had frequent places in Stiles's nightmares. Who know he could top all of them?

'It's not that bad,' said his Dad, sounding as if he didn't quite believe himself.

'The guy's left skid marks out the floor he bailed out of here so fast.' Said Stiles, trying to figure out why it bothered him so much.

'Maybe it's for the best,' said his Dad. 'You've still not been discharged from Eichen house officially; it's a little too early for you to be thinking about dating.'

'Dating?' Stiles finally lifted up his head. 'What do you mean dating?'

'Well mentally you're still sixteen and he looks like he's at least in his twenties. It doesn't sit very well with me.' Answered his Dad.

'We are not having this conversation,' said Stiles.

His Dad smiles almost shyly at him. 'Well we will have to at some point and it's kind of strangely nice. After everything that happened, I never thought we'd ever get to sit down and have a conversation like this.'

Stiles is torn between hitting his head against the table again and putting his arms around his Dad. 'We don't need to have this conversation, we were just talking. Derek's just a friend.'

'Friend's don't look at each other the way you two were.' Said his Dad, with a twinkle in his eyes.

'Dad!' moans Stiles, throwing a napkin at him. Hopefully they were going to go home and never have this conversation ever again. This world just got a whole lot more weirder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Here is the last part! **

Stiles can't quite believe how quickly time passes in this world. Before he knows it he is permanently released back into his Dad's care on the stipulation he continues to attend counselling once a week. He practically skips out Eichen House's doors and makes sure to flip Jackson the finger through the gates as soon as he's outside. He's free…almost…well until his Dad makes him go back to school.

Soon he finds himself uncomfortably in the principle's office, trying to ignore the fact he is pretty much sure the man is dead in his world. The worst part of it was he'd spotted Harris in the hallway; he really couldn't catch a break!

'So you obviously will be put back a year or two, we'll see how you get on during your tests. But we're hoping that with tutoring you will be able to graduate next year.' Said the principle who Stiles has long forgotten the name of.

'Great,' says Stiles, sounding more enthusiastic than he really was. He'd said it like it was his last word before a giant boulder landed on top of his head and crushed him. 'Fantastic.'

'Are you going to be alright if I leave you here today?' asked his Dad.

'As alright as I can be, in a school full of people who are just going to stare at me all day like some zoo exhibition.' He muttered under his breath.

Hid Dad put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'I'll pick you up at the end of the day.'

'We'll make sure he's okay.' Said the principle.

An hour late Stiles almost laughs at those words, as he stepped into yet another classroom and finds everyone is now silent and staring at him. He resists the urge to run and tries to ignore how much he misses Scott. He was in hell and now there wasn't even his best buddy to go through it with him too.

As he slips into an empty chair, Stiles tries to ignore the way the boy next to him is staring at him.

'Do I have something on my face?' he asks.

The boy shakes his head.

'Then stop staring dude, I don't do tricks.' Said Stiles, as he opens up his book.

**TW**

Stiles practically runs out of school at the end of the day, he is moving so fast that he walks straight into a familiar red head.

'Lydia?' says Stiles breathlessly. It turns out she is practically a Goddess in this world too.

'Do I know you?' she frowns, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him.

'Stiles…Stiles Stilinski' says Stiles, somewhat hopelessly.

'Lydia's frown deepens. 'The coma kid?'

'It wasn't a coma, more like this strange catatonic state where I just dreamt about werewolves and banshees all the time…' Stiles stops as he notices Lydia's eyebrows disappearing further up her forehead. 'Just forget it.'

'Don't worry,' she reassures him. 'I already am.' Before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.

'I miss my Lydia,' mutters Stiles under his breath.

'Bolinski!' says a familiar voice.

Stiles turned and noticed Coach standing behind him.

'If you don't move it soon I will be dragging you by the shaved bristles on your head to Lacrosse practice. You're blocking my hall way!' said Coach.

'It's Stilinski,' said Stiles.

'Does it look like a care?' asks Coach. 'Now are you going to move or am I going to be forced to put you back into that coma of yours?'

'It wasn't a…never mind,' said Stiles, stepping away.

'That's better,' replied Coach.

**TW**

When his Dad drops him at School the next day, Stiles waits about a minute before walking straight back out again. Screw this world; he isn't going through another day of that again. He heads to the cemetery and settles himself in front of Scott's grave, pulling out a bottle of Mountain Dew.

'Back again buddy…told you that you wouldn't keep me away.' He taps his bottle to Scott's headstone. 'So school sucks, this world sucks and well everything sucks. If there was a prize for the most sucky world ever, this one would win it.'

Stiles glanced around and was relieved to notice he was still alone.

'Lydia doesn't know I exist and Derek is freakily attractive in this world but thinks I'm nuts. Not to mention well…everyone thinks I'm nuts and you're dead. It's like some freaky gone crime movie.' Continued Stiles. 'I keep expecting you to jump out from behind a tree and yell 'surprise' at me…because anything, even a zombie you would make more sense than everything else happening in this world.'

Stiles was about to continue talking when he felt a strong hand clasped around the back of his neck, sharp claws digging in to the delicate skin there. He hardly has time to scream before he is lifted into the air and threw against Scott's grave stone.

He let out a small whimper, before forcing himself onto his hands and knees. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. Stiles actually let out a relieved laugh as he notices the person standing over him was a werewolf. Granted it's a werewolf he doesn't know and it looks like they want to kill him…but it's a werewolf!

'If you wanted my attention,' Stiles wheezes out. 'All you had to do was say, throwing people around in a cemetery isn't very respectful dude.'

The male werewolf narrows his pale blue eyes. 'Where are they?'

Stiles forced himself to his feet. 'Where are who? You're going to have to be more specific, I'm not a mind reader here.'

'Where are the Hales?' growled the werewolf.

'About six stones back up that way,' answered Stiles, pointing towards the cluster of graves that make up the Hale plot.

'Don't try and be funny,'

Stiles tried not to smirk. 'This isn't even me at my 'A' game; if I was trying to be funny…you'd know it.'

'I want the Hales.'

'Well I wanted my bottle of Mountain Dew that is now seeping into the grass over there; we can't always get what we want.' Answered Stiles.

The werewolf is on him in seconds, lifting him into the air again. Stiles closed his eyes cursing his smart mouth. The pain never comes and instead Stiles feels himself being roughly tugged into someone's arms. Not just anyone's arms: Chris Argent's arms.

Stiles feet finally manage to touch the floor, as Chris drags him away from the werewolf. The werewolf doesn't even glance at Stiles as he launches himself at a wolfed out Derek Hale. Laughter again starts to bubble from Stiles's lungs, looks like Derek's a werewolf in this world too. The two wolves seem to be tearing and snarling at one another, in what looks to be the beginning of a fight to the death.

'Are you okay?' Chris practically shouts over the growling.

Stiles is practically buzzing with energy and relief, 'I'm not just okay…I am awesome! Dude…werewolves are real'

Chris gives him a 'are' you crazy?' look, a look that Stiles has become accustomed to recently. It doesn't bother Stiles one bit because werewolves exist! A sound of several guns going off causes Stiles's attention to go back to the fight between the two werewolves, just in time to see the rogue drop to the floor with several steaming bullet holes coming out of his chest.

Derek stepped away from the rogue, as a number of hunters appear from behind the graves and surround its body. Derek's piercing blue eyes shift immediately back to green when he notices Stiles staring over at him open mouthed. Derek crosses the graves and pulls Stiles straight into his arms, holding him close to his chest.

'Dude…can't breath.' Stiles said with a mouth full of leather. 'Again with the hugging? People are going to start to talk.'

Derek sheepishly let go of him. 'Sorry…it just I feel like I should know you.'

'Maybe you do,' said Stiles.

Chris Argent lets out a snort. 'Why do I feel like I've suddenly stumbled into the middle of a romance novel?'

Stiles rolled his eyes. 'It's totally a zombie movie.'

The two men looked at him with confusion.

'Never mind.'

**TW**

'I am guessing you have a lot of questions.' Says Chris Argent as they are sitting down in his apartment an hour later.

Stiles took a huge gulp of his coffee. 'Not really.' His gaze shifted over to a smiling picture of Allison, looking young and beautiful.

'You don't want to know about werewolves?' asked Chris.

'I could write several books on what I know about werewolves dude.' His gaze shifts over to Derek, who is watching him intently.

Chris frowns, but then a moment of understanding crosses over his face. 'You're not Stiles Stilinski.'

'I'm a Stiles Stilinski, just not your one.' Answers Stiles honestly, relieved to finally say it out loud. 'I don't belong here, I belong somewhere else.'

'Do we know each other in your world?' Said Derek suddenly.

'Yes,' said Stiles. 'Although you're a lot more growlier in my world, every time I see you I feel like I should be telling you to frown more.' He finally looks back to Chris. 'I know Allison.'

'Allison,' Chris almost whispers, like the name holds some type of magical property. 'Is she…is she okay?'

'Yes, well bar the fact she keeps bringing home werewolf boyfriends.' Said Stiles with a smile.

'Why should we trust you Stiles?' asked Derek, a familiar frown on his face. 'You could be a plant.'

Stiles frowns at him. 'What? Like a daisy or something? Why would I make all this stuff up? I just want to go home, but I didn't think that would ever be possible until today.'

'You want us to help you?' asked Chris, his expression careful closed.

Stiles nodded. 'I want you to help me because it is the right thing to do and you're a good man,' he glanced over at Derek. 'And it's what you and I do., in my world at least; we help each other.'

'I'll have a talk with one of my contacts; see if they can dig anything up.' Said Chris. 'Do you want to give Laura a call?' he asks, directing the question at Derek.

'Laura's alive here?' said Stiles. 'Holy shit.'

'We decided to stay legally dead in this world; everyone assumed we died in the fire. We decided it would be safer that way. But yes she is alive here, isn't in your world?' replied Derek. He nodded at Chris as the other man slipped out of the room.

'No,' replied Stiles. 'I guess that explains why you're so different here.'

Derek raised an eyebrow. 'Different?'

'More relaxed, not so much of a sour wolf.'

'A sour wolf?' asked Derek, a half smile on his lips.

Stiles felt himself blushing. 'It's just a nickname.'

'Like Miguel?'

'Something like that.' Said Stiles, trying to ignore his own increased heart rate. It seemed this Derek had quite an affect on him especially down in his trousers. He desperately tried to figure out when he had first found Derek Hale attractive, like wanted to climb him like a tree attractive. He was drawing a blank, but guessed it must have been for a while.

'What do I call you?' asked Derek, his voice low.

'An idiot.' Answered Stiles.

Derek let out a soft laugh and Stiles couldn't help but smile. This had to be the real Derek Hale that his Derek was hiding underneath. He'd managed to get glimpses of him in the past, but obviously he'd only just scratched the surface.

'So…' said Stiles, 'How did you and Chris end up being friends in this world?'

The smile on Derek's face disappeared. 'We're not friends, more like allies. He sorted out a problem for Laura and me. We kind of owe him again now after sorting out the rogue today that has been causing Laura and me trouble.'

'Did Kate happen?' questioned Stiles.

Derek's face went on a complete emotional shut down. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Okay,' said Stiles.

After that the two sat there in awkward silence, something Stiles wasn't accustomed to with his Derek. By now that would have at least exchanged at least a few witty quips. He was almost relieved when Chris came back.

**TW**

Stiles briefly glanced up from his lap top as his Dad slammed into the house. He was about to continue his research on string theory and alternate universes when he realised his Dad was hovering next to him.

'Okay?' asked Stiles, taking one eye off his laptop.

'Why weren't you in school today?' asked his Dad.

'Who says I wasn't?' replied Stiles.

'Were you?'

Stiles finally tore both eyes away from the laptop. 'No.'

'Stiles,' sighed the Sheriff.

'I'm sick of being some circus attraction Dad,'

'You're not a…'

Stiles put down his lap top. 'Yes I am.'

'It'll get better, you'll make friends.' Said his Dad.

'Yeah, but none of them will be Scott.'

His Dad was silent for a moment, looking almost lost. 'Come outside son.'

Stiles cocked an eyebrow at him. 'Outside? You're not going to take me outside and shoot me, are you? Because I don't think you'll be able to make it look like an accident if you do near the house, they'll be blood stains and everything. Plus it was just one day.'

'Stiles.'

He let out a sigh and reluctantly followed his Dad out of the front door. Stiles stopped as he noticed what was sitting in the drive…an almost exact copy of his lost jeep.

'Is that?' he asked breathlessly.

'It's for you,' says his Dad, dangling the keys in front of him.

Stiles stepped forward and ran his hands over the bonnet. 'She's beautiful.' He began to stroke the car. 'Where have you been all my life? I could kiss you…in fact.' He bent down and did just that, contemplating climbing onto its roof and hugging it. He had a jeep again, he had freedom. Was licking his new keep a too extreme reaction?

'Stiles take your tongue off the jeep,' said his father. 'It comes with conditions.'

Stiles paused mid stroke. 'Conditions?'

'I don't want to ever hear about you skipping school again and I want you to try and make some friends. You've had a tough year and at the minute you're sinking and I don't want you to sink son, I want you to swim.' His Dad said gruffly.

Stiles put his arms around his Dad, pulling him into a hug. 'I'll try.'

'That's all I ask.'

He tried to ignore the intense feeling of guilt in his stomach, knowing deep down he didn't mean it. Deep down he was going to do everything in his power to go home.

**TW**

Stiles quickly shoved his books into his bag on day three of not avoiding school. At least it was getting easier, other than the whole eating lunch on his own thing and the fact people were still staring. He'd caught a brief glance of non-werewolf Erica and Boyd too, but had decided not to approach them. Stiles had said his goodbyes at their funerals and he didn't want to open the healing wounds from loosing them. Perhaps the thing that unnerved him the most was Isaac, who always seemed to be hidden in the shadows. Stiles couldn't help but feel sick when he noticed the other boy's black eye and the way he limped around school. Isaac's Dad obviously wasn't dead in this world and up to his old tricks. Stiles need to sort this out some how.

'What are you doing at the weekend?' asked the boy sitting next to Stiles.

Stiles looked around, trying to figure out who he was talking to. He was shocked to realise it was him. 'Me?'

The boy smiled at him. 'Yeah.'

'Nothing much…just the usual…' Stiles trailed off. His usual was helping Scott and Derek with whatever supernatural being that had rolled into town. In this world it was watching bad re-runs of awful television. 'Video games…and stuff.' He tried.

'Awesome...well if you ever want to, you could always come round my house and play some games.' Said the boy hopefully, an innocent smile on his face.

'You're asking me? The one they've nicknamed the crazy coma person?' asked Stiles.

The boy shrugged. 'Yeah.'

'Not that I mean to sound ungrateful or anything…but why? Even I wouldn't ask me round to play video games.' Said Stiles, half wishing he would shut his own mouth. It was the first time someone had made an effort with him at school and he was blowing it. He wondered if he could blame the social deprivation he was feeling lately and the fact he'd roomed with a psychotic Jackson.

'You made me laugh the other day when you spoke to Coach and I thought a guy who says things like you do must be pretty cool.'

Stiles tried to ignore the burning in his eyes and feels his defences weaken. 'Okay.'

The boy's face splits into a big grin. 'I'm Liam by the way.'

'Stiles.'

'I know.' Said Liam, smiling at him.

**TW**

Stiles felt a weird chill as Lydia Martin grabbed onto his arm at the end of school, pulling him along with her.

'So Stiles,' she says cheerfully.

He feels his heart flutter out of habit and at the fact she knows his name. He quickly pushed away the feeling, knowing this Lydia isn't his friend. She is either up to something or wants something.

'Lydia…me lady' he replies, making sure not to add some gushing remark about how beautiful her hair is in the sun.

'I want you to tell me how you managed to score the hottie in the leather jacket, when you've been a patient in Eichen House for the last two years. Because you've got real game Stilinski, I give you that.' She smiled at him with her perfectly painted lips.

'What hottie?' asked Stiles. 'I don't know any hotties…just Der…' he trails off noticing Derek leaning against his new jeep…in sunglasses. Stiles has a feeling that sunglasses will be featuring in quite a few of his less than innocent dreams tonight.

'So you do know him?' asked Lydia, almost glowing with glee. 'I'm impressed.'

'He's just a friend.' Said Stiles quickly.

'Just a friend you fancy the pants off,' said Lydia, rolling her eyes. 'Don't worry; this will be our little secret. Just point me in the direction of his brother, if he has one.'

'I don't think he has one, just an uncle.'

Lydia looks almost disappointed. 'How old is his uncle?'

'A good ten years older than you.' Replied Stiles.

'Pity,' Lydia finally let go of his arm. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't Stilinski,' she winked at him, before making her way across the car park towards her own car.

Stiles ignored the aching in his heart for the old Lydia and instead distract himself by walking over to Derek. People again were staring at them, just when Stiles thought they were starting to stop.

'Derek,' he said, leaning alongside him on the jeep. 'You're at my school…like a creeper…I would say this is a lovely surprise or something new…but it's not. It's actually a scary habit of yours that seems to exist in every universe, it's slightly worrying.'

'Are we getting in your car or not?' asked Derek.

'Ah…awesome, you're also in one of your usual dark moods that makes me want to savagely beat my own head in with a baseball bat…it's almost like I'm not trapped in some messed up universe where everyone thinks I'm insane.' Said Stiles.

'I'll rip the door off.' Replied Derek.

Stiles let out a sigh and opened his jeep with his key. He doesn't say a word when Derek climbed into the passenger side. They are five minutes into the journey to Stiles's house, when he decides to break the silence.

'Bad time of the wolf month?' he asks.

'Something like that.' Answered Derek. 'Where are we going?' he asked when Stiles drives past his own house.

'Dude…it's kind of creepy you know where I live.' Answered Stiles, purposefully avoiding the question.

'Stiles.' Said Derek in a warning voice.

'We're going to get curly fries and then to Isaac's house.' Said Stiles.

'Isaac?'

Stiles pulled into a nearby drive thru 'He's a friend, kind of. He's important to both of us in my world.'

'Okay.' Said Derek.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. 'Okay? No cynicism or witty come back…you do disappoint me.'

Derek took off his sunglasses and finally looked at Stiles. 'I'm not him.'

Stiles can't ignore the painful ache in his chest at his words. 'I know.'

**TW**

Three hours later Stiles banged heavily on Melissa McCall's front door, hoping to God she wasn't on shift and was in tonight. Melissa opened the door was the same look of weariness in her eyes, she was surprised to see Stiles standing on the other side. Especially since standing next to Stiles is a beaten up Isaac Lahey.

Stiles practically forced his way into the house, dragging Isaac with him.

'Stiles…what?' starts Melissa.

Stiles waveed his hands in the air to make her stop talking. 'I want to tell you something and it's going to sound insane, but you need to listen to me.'

'Okay.' Said Melissa.

'This is Isaac; Isaac needs a place to say. Isaac's Dad hurt him a lot, but he won't be doing that any more. Because in the world where I came from the same thing happened and in that world you and Scott took him in.' said Stiles, feeling breathless. He wasn't entirely sure his crazy plan was going to work, but he had to try.

'Stiles I can't just take him in.' argued Melissa.

'He's eighteen, why not?' answers Stiles. 'Plus have you seen his injuries? He needs a nurse and you're a nurse.'

'Stiles,' said Melissa again. She sounds tired, so tired.

'It's just for a day or two. Can't you both just try it, in my world it works. It works really well.'

Melissa glanced over at Isaac, her restraint wavering. The nurse in her obviously wanted to fix Isaac up. 'You've been ill for two years Stiles, I don't know if it's right that I should be listening to you.'

'Scott would have done,' said Stiles simply. 'This is what Scott would have wanted.'

'The guest room is upstairs on the first right,' said Melissa softly to Isaac, 'if you want to go put your stuff in there. I'll be up in a minute with my first aid kit.'

Isaac nodded and made his way up the stairs. Once he was gone Stiles and Melissa looked at one another, neither breaking the other's gaze. It is Melissa who finally turns away, her eyes showing the beginning of tears.

'Please, for Scott.' Whispered Stiles.

'Okay, I'll do it.' she said softly. 'But just for a few days. I can't believe I am agreeing to something like this.'

Stiles threw his arms around her; she is stiff for a moment and he is almost ready to pull away when he feels Melissa return his hug.

'Thank you, you won't regret it.' Said Stiles pulling away.

'I hope not,' answered Melissa, she tentatively reached out and touched the large scar on Stiles's head. 'I miss having you both around the house, for a while it felt like I lost two sons.'

Stiles swallowed down the hard lump in his throat. 'I'll try to come round more.'

Melissa smiled at him tearfully. 'That would be nice.'

**TW**

Stiles slid down the seat in his jeep with exhaustion, as he finally turned the key to turn the engine off. He contemplated sleeping on the steering wheel, but realises Derek is still in the passenger seat next to him.

'That thing you did with the bat,' said Derek softly. 'It was pretty great.'

Stiles felt his cheeks again flush red, with another unexpected Derek Hale compliment. He wasn't used to getting them very often. 'It was nothing.'

'I've never seen anyone look so scary with a baseball bat before.' Said Derek.

'You've obviously not seen it when the Sheriff's office plays baseball once a month; those guys are lethal with the things. Though everyone underestimates the power of the bat, everyone but the awesome Stiles Stilinski of course.'

'Do you often talk about yourself in third person?' asked Derek.

'All the time.'

'No wonder you drive the other me crazy.' Said Derek.

Stiles smiled softly at the thought of his Derek. 'I think he likes it secretly, though he would never ever tell me that.'

'I can't blame him; you're a pretty amazing guy Stiles.' Said Derek, his eyes not leaving Stiles's face. 'Not many people would have done what you just did for Isaac tonight.'

Stiles suddenly felt the jeep get really warm all of a sudden. 'It's not just me; we're all a team in my world. We rescue and look out for one another; it's just what we all do.'

Derek leaned forward a little. 'What are we in your world?'

'Friends,' answers Stiles without hesitation. His heart was pounding away in his ears; it seemed he wanted Derek to kiss him…that was new.

'Then why do I feel like it's something more?' asked Derek softly, leaning in so close that his lips were only centre meters from Stiles's.

'It's the scar, makes me look all sexy.' Answered Stiles, trying to ignore how high pitched his voice got on the word 'sexy'. He can't help but let out an awkward laugh.

'That must be it,' said Derek, finally pulling himself out of the trance he seemed to have been in. He slid quickly out of the passenger door. 'Good night Stiles,' he said, his voice almost a whisper as he disappeared into the night.

Stiles waited for a moment before slamming his head down hard on the steering wheel. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid.' He muttered under his breath.

'Just friends, ay?' asked his Dad, appearing as if by magic at his car window, with a cup of coffee in his hand.

'I don't want to talk about it,' groaned Stiles. He's almost sure he can hear his Dad laughing as he follows him into the house.

**TW**

A few days later Stiles is surprised as a number of lunch trays slide down next to him on his empty table. He is so used to eating lunch by himself that the sound makes him jump. He glances up and notices that Lydia and Danny have joined him at his table.

'I was thinking,' said Lydia as a way of a greeting. 'What is the point of being the most popular girl in the school, when you don't have any nuts in your group?'

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. 'Er…thanks, I think.'

'I like you Stiles,' said Lydia. 'You never fail to surprise me in any of the things you do, we could all do with someone like you around to lighten things up every once in a while.'

Two years ago Stiles would have melted in his seat at her words, but all he feels now is relief. Relief that maybe he can have some pieces of his old life back.

'How are you?' asked Danny warmly. 'I used to visit you after the accident, but I'm guessing you wouldn't remember that.'

Stiles shifted awkwardly. 'Sorry dude, but thank you.'

Danny shrugs. 'It's what any one would have done. Scott was a good guy, I miss seeing him around.'

For the first time in months Stiles suddenly looses his appetite. He looked at anywhere but Danny, trying to hide how much him mentioning Scott's name had killed him a little inside. Stiles finally notices Isaac across the room watching them, clenching his lunch try so tightly that there are sure to be marks in his hands tomorrow. For a moment Isaac hesitates, before crossing the room and placing down his tray hard at the space opposite Stiles.

'Hi Stiles,' says Isaac, giving both Lydia and Danny a mistrustful look.

'Hey Isaac,' said Stiles. It seemed Isaac's weird imprinting like thing that had happened with Scott had been switched to him in this world.

'What happened to your face?' Lydia asked Isaac.

'He was in a fight,' answered Stiles for Isaac. 'You should see the other guy.'

Lydia looked at Stiles and then at Isaac. 'I think I'm going to like you two.'

**TW**

Around ten' o'clock Stiles let Liam out of his house, as the kid excitedly went on about the game they'd just been playing. Stiles liked Liam, he reminded him a little of Scott and was like a breath of fresh air. He even laughed at Stiles's random thoughts and looked at him in awe as he told him about Lydia Martin sitting at his table that day.

'Can I sit at your lunch table tomorrow?' asked Liam, just as he was leaving.

Stiles shrugged. 'Sure, the more the merrier.' It was going to take a while to get used to this whole people wanting to sit with him at lunch thing.

'Awesome!' said Liam. 'I'll see you tomorrow and on Saturday I will thrash you again at Mario Kart.'

'Never going to happen dude,' said Stiles, unable to stop himself from smiling.

Liam wavered at Stiles again as he reached the sidewalk, before taking off in a jog to the direction of his house. He was about to turn and go inside, when he noticed a familiar shadow lurking near his jeep.

'I can hear you thinking from over here dude.' He called over to Derek.

Derek slipped out from behind his jeep, doing his best not to look awkward. The Derek of Stiles's world never looked awkward, so it was a rare treat.

'Are you stalking me like some creeper again?' asked Stiles.

'I'm keeping watch.' Answered Derek.

'Why?' asked Stiles.

'It's my way of repaying the favour I owe Chris,' replied Derek. 'He hired me a few months ago to watch over you.'

Stiles bit his lip. 'And here was me thinking I was special.'

Derek edged closer to Stiles. 'You are special Stiles. He did it on the request of a woman who disappeared moments after making it.'

Stiles felt his body go hot with how close Derek was. 'Oh, do you want to come inside? Or will me making you some hot chocolate put you off your game?'

Derek's lips slipped into a smile. 'I can make an exception this once.'

A few minutes later Stiles joined Derek on the couch, ignoring the tingle in his fingers as their hands touched as he passed Derek his hot chocolate.

'Any luck in finding me a way home?' asked Stiles.

The expression of Derek's face twisted with a number of emotions. 'Not yet. But would it be so bad if you had to stay here?'

Stiles's mouth went dry at the expression on Derek's face. 'I don't know,' he answered.

'I've been watching you lately and you fit Stiles, you fit into this life. You have friends, you have your Dad and you have me. I don't get why you want to leave it all behind.' Said Derek, as he placed his cup down on the coffee table.

'Because this isn't my home!' cried Stiles. 'This is some other Stiles's home and I'm taking his place and it isn't right.'

'Forget what's right Stiles!' growled Derek, his eyes flashing blue.

'I can't!'

'Well let me help you.' Said Derek.

Derek leaned forward and crushed their lips together hard. For a moment Stiles was frozen, before his instincts kicked in and he slid his arms around Derek's neck. Their lips crashed together in desperation, in kisses full of teeth and unsaid words. Stiles dug his nails into Derek's back, as desire and heat flooded through his body. In moments Stiles was on his back on the sofa, with Derek on top of him. Their lips didn't leave each others once. Just as the heat began to feel unbearable Derek began to run his hand down the waist band to Stiles's trousers, Stiles felt as if somebody had chucked a bucket of cold water over him. He pushed Derek away hard.

'No,' he panted breathlessly, positioning himself as far away as possible on the sofa from Derek.

The expression on Derek's face was pure anguish.

'This isn't right,' said Stiles, 'No matter how much we both want it. Were we going to…?'

Derek nodded.

'All night and in lots of different positions?'

Derek nodded again.

Stiles felt the blood go to a part of his body that wasn't his cheeks. Derek Hale wanted to do sexy times with him and he'd said no. Stiles was pretty sure ninety year old him was kicking himself hard right now. He is almost tempted to close the distance between them again, but the side of his brain that had stopped them in the first place seems to finally jolt him out of it.

'Is there someone else?' asked Derek.

'Yes,' answered Stiles, before he could stop himself. 'I can't do this because I think I might be falling for someone else, it doesn't help that the someone else is you from another world.'

'But I am him,' said Derek, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Stiles smiles, almost bitterly. 'But you're not. You're not the guy I held up for hours in the pool this one time because he was paralysed, the one who I nearly had to chop the arm off because there was a bullet in it, the one who wouldn't kill me when I was possessed even though it was probably the right thing to do at the time, or the one who is so emotionally constipated that you have to work days just to get a smile. We could do this right now and it would be so easy, but I don't want easy. I want Derek, my Derek.'

'I don't understand,' said Derek.

'You're like some warm and fuzzy version of my Derek and it's great if you like that. But I want the real thing and if I have you right now, I'll never be able to have that. It'd be like reading the end of a book I haven't read or getting money before I pass go in Monopoly. It's cheating and I don't want to cheat, I want to work for it and win fair and square. If we sleep together I can't un-see your body, I can't undo what we did…and I'll never be able to have that with him, without thinking about you. And he deserves to be the only one on my mind when we do those things.'

'Does he love you?' asked Derek.

Stiles bit his lip. 'I don't know, but I think there's a chance we could grow to love each other and I can't give up on that.'

'He doesn't deserve you,' said Derek.

'No…but I think he is working towards a day when he will.' Said Stiles, believing it more than anything else he'd ever believed in his life.

'I should go,' said Derek.

Stiles nodded and didn't try to stop him as he quietly left through the front door. And later that night he makes himself go to sleep with a clear conscience, ignoring the anguished howls coming out from somewhere in the night.

**TW**

Stiles stepped out the house ready for school, when he once again noticed Derek lurking by his jeep. Part of him wants to run inside and hide, while the other part of him wants to throw himself at his feet and apologise for ever being stupid enough to reject him.

'It's time,' said Derek simply, not looking Stiles in the eye.

'Time? Time for what?' asked Stiles.

'I spoke to Deaton; he's ready to send you home. He's been ready for a while, I just couldn't tell you.' Said Derek, looking at the floor.

Stiles clenched his fists, the urge to punch the other man the highest it has ever been. 'How long?'

'A few days,' answered Derek.

'A few days?' Stiles almost shouts. His world's Derek would never have done anything like this. This Derek was selfish.

'I'm sorry,' said Derek.

'Because you woke up and thought: you know what, I think Stiles needs even more time in this upside down crazy world?' said Stiles sarcastically. 'I can't see any flaw in this fantastic idea.'

'I thought I could get you to change your mind.' Said Derek, still not making eye contact.

'Well you thought wrong,' said Stiles angrily. He glanced back towards his front door. 'Have I got time to say goodbye?'

'If you're quick,' answered Derek.

'How generous of you.'

Stiles turned away from him without another word, he is so angry right now he can barely look at him. He finds his Dad exactly where he left him: eating a bowl of muesli at the table with a disgusted look on his face.

'Did you forget something?' asks his Dad.

Stiles launched himself forward and flung his arms around his Dad. He held on so tightly that he wasn't sure if he was blocking his Dad's ability to breath 'I love you Dad.'

The Sheriff smiled fondly at his son. 'I know you do kiddo, I love you too'

'You're going to take care of yourself, aren't you?' said Stiles.

His Dad looked concerned. 'Of course I am, is something wrong?'

'No,' said Stiles softly. 'I just needed you to know that before I left.'

Stiles takes one last look at this world's version of his Dad, before heading out the door and closing it behind him for good.

**TW**

Deaton is the almost the same in this world as he is in Stiles own. He looks almost fascinated by Stiles and asks him questions about his own world. Stiles feels almost tired by the time Deaton takes him into a room where there is a familiar metal bath filled with ice. Derek follows silently behind them, not saying a word to either of them.

'You were displaced by something supernatural, so I am going to displace you right back.' Said Deaton.

'Will it work?' asked Stiles.

'Well as long as it doesn't kill, it should do.' Explained Deaton.

'Will you be able to get this world's Stiles back?' Stiles asked, thinking of all the faces of the people he cared about in this world.

'I can try,'

'Promise me you'll do it,' said Stiles. 'Promise me you'll bring him back, he deserves another chance at this.'

'Okay. Are you ready now?' asked Deaton.

Stiles hesistated for a moment as he glanced over at Derek 'Could we have a minute?'

'Certainly,' Deaton stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Stiles finally looked at Derek. 'I'm still angry at you.'

'I know,' replied Derek.

'That was a really horrible and selfish thing to do.' He continued.

'I know,'

Stiles awkwardly bit his lip. 'We don't do things like that in my world; we look out for each other. You've got a lot of growing to do before you deserve him.'

Derek looked confused. 'Deserve who?'

'This world's Stiles.' Said Stiles, rolling his eyes.

'What if I don't want this world's Stiles.' Replied Derek, fixing him a cold glare.

Stiles unconsciously touched the scar on his head, 'You may not now, but you will later. You owe me for keeping me here when I could have been at home. So you're going to repay me by looking after this world's Stiles. He's going to need someone like you, what with Scott being dead here.'

'What if I say no?' said Derek, his eyes cold.

Stiles shook his head. 'You won't because I know part of you is tired of being selfish. Part of you wants to change and do things like we did the night we saved Isaac from his Dad.'

Derek grunted, but didn't argue. Stiles took this as a positive sign and stepped forward, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

'Maybe in some other life. Goodbye Derek.'

Derek awkwardly stepped forward and put his arms around Stiles. 'Goodbye Stiles.'

As they parted Deaton stepped back into the room.

'Ready?' Deaton asked.

Stiles nodded and stepped fully clothed into the bath.

'Go get him,' said Derek softly.

Stiles gave Derek one last smile, before he was lowered into the bath and water surrounded his face. The world was became hazy, and then drifted into nothingness and darkness.

**TW**

Stiles felt as if only mere seconds pass until a white light surrounds him and he is sitting up gasping and choking for air. As his eyes start to adjust he notices he is once again in a hospital. He clenched his chest, trying desperately to calm down his heart.

'Stiles?' said his Dad, swimming into view. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept in days.

'Dad? Did it work?' he asked, his voice a mere croak.

'Did what work?'

'Oh god,' moaned Stiles. 'I'm still trapped here, aren't I?' sliding down the pillows between coughs 'How long will I have to spend here this time?' assuming here was Eichen house again.

His Dad doesn't have time to answer, before the door to his room swung open. Stiles felt the world stop moving as he noticed Scott standing in the doorway, light flooding into the room.

'Scottie,' said Stiles softly, feeling a sting in his eyes. 'You're alive?'

'Course I am,' replied Scott, he crossed the room and put his arms around Stiles.

Stiles clung onto his best friend, trying to ignore the fact he was making a mess of his shoulder. Scott could handle a bit of snot and tears, especially after everything Stiles had been through. He was a mess, but he'd blame whatever drugs they had him on.

'I'm never letting you out of my sight again dude,' said Stiles softly into Scott's shoulder, 'like never. You're like going to have to pee with the bathroom door open from now on.'

Scott pulled a way a little with a smile on his face. 'Okay.'

'Son, I think you're crushing Scott's ribs.' Said his Dad, before standing up and joining them in their hug.

When they all pull away a little misty eyed from their group hug, Stiles notices Scott has the same tired look as his Dad.

'What happened?' asked Stiles, staring down at the drip attached to his hand.

Scott couldn't quite meet his eyes. 'You were kidnapped by another pack; you were doing some research on them for me and got too close to one of their secrets. They had a witch with them…' he trailed off.'

'Son,' started his Dad, in his sheriff matter-of-fact voice. 'They hit you over the head and dumped you in an almost freezing river. You were technically dead for two hours until Derek found you.'

'Derek found me?' asked Stiles, choosing not to focus on the whole dead thing.

'You should have seen him,' said Scott, 'He went crazy afterwards, tore several of their pack members to pieces. I didn't even realise Derek cared about us and you that much.'

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear the whole thing about tearing,' said his Dad.

Scott grinned awkwardly. 'Probably best too.'

'How long have I been in hospital?' asked Stiles.

'Just a few days,' replied Scott. 'Derek managed to resuscitate you and bring you here. They were worried for a while that you would be brain damaged.'

'That's nothing new,' said Stiles. 'Takes more than a dip in some luke-warm river to get rid of me.'

'Can we avoid jokes about waters and rivers for at least a week or two,' asked his Dad. 'I don't know how much more my heart can take of you and your near death experiences. I think I might need a burger'

'Not going to happen Dad.' Replied Stiles with a grin. He couldn't help but keep looking at Scott, a part of him terrified he was going to disappear at any moment. He didn't. And Stiles was relieved he was finally home.

**TW**

A few days later Stiles huddled up under what felt like a mountain of blankets whilst everyone else was at school. He still couldn't get warm after his apparent dip in a river and several tin baths full of ice that he didn't want to think about. He was trying not to be bitter about the fact he'd spent both his eighteenth birthday in this world and the other world passed out in a hospital bed; although Lydia was talking about throwing him a party when he was better.

Stiles had finally been allowed home, after Melissa had got sick of throwing his friends out of his room for rowdy behaviour. Whatever rowdy behaviour was…so he and Scott had borrowed two wheelchairs and had a race, what was the problem? They hadn't hurt anyone, bar the grumpy Doctor who seemed to hate Stiles for no reason. And to be honest that was a victory.

As Stiles pressed the play button he tried not to think how he hadn't seen this world's Derek since he'd woken up. It might be a bit awkward any way, since his twin from a universe had put his tongue and hands in places that still made Stiles blush. He didn't want to think about Jackson either, who was in the depths of his own madness in a different universe. Stiles had managed to get his number from Lydia and called him. He was still a dick in this universe, but he was a non-murdering dick at least. They'd actually had an okay conversation once he'd done insulting Stiles.

The sound of his bedroom window being pulled open doesn't worry Stiles, he knows instantly who it is and he'd been waiting for him for days. Stiles can't help but feel warm all of a sudden as a very stubbly Derek Hale lands gracefully in the middle of his bedroom floor. Derek looks hot, so much hotter than other world Derek. Stiles actually wants to run his fingers through his hair and lick his abs…this was new. He wondered if his rain check on sexy times with other Derek applied in this universe.

'Stiles, do you need to go to the hospital?' asked Derek, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Stiles closed his mouth and wiped away the drool. His new found attraction to Derek was so going to make things awkward. 'No I spent plenty of time there already, not that you would know seen as you never visited.'

Derek glared at him. 'I was busy.'

'Doing push ups?' asked Stiles, because he was almost sure Derek's muscles were even bigger than the last time he'd seen them.

'Helping Deaton,' replied Derek, he slid his jacket off and sat down on the edge of Stiles's bed. 'How are you feeling?'

'Like some witch drowned me and displaced me into another universe for a few months.' Replied Stiles. 'And I've got to ask, does the shop you get your leather jackets from exist in every universe?'

Derek lips twitched. 'Probably.'

'You can either sit there and stare at my wall for the next hour like you're doing…which news flash dude; my wall is not that interesting. Or you can pop in another DVD and come sit up here with me.' Said Stiles, after he'd been on the receiving end of one of Derek's silent stares for the past few minutes.

Instead of climbing out the window like Stiles expected him to do, Derek pops a new DVD into his player, slipped his shoes off and joined Stiles on the bed.

'Dude…' said Stiles, as Derek slides in next to him. 'You know how to work a DVD player?'

'Shut up Stiles.'

Stiles can't help but smile, feeling a familiar warmth in his heart when it comes to Derek. He threw his blankets over the other man, shifting closer to him. He felt so cold and Derek was so warm. He shifted a little closer and finally rested his head on Derek's shoulder, trying to not feel too discouraged by the way Derek stiffens under him.

'What are you doing?' asked Derek, sounding almost vulnerable.

'Snuggling,' replied Stiles, feelings his eyes drift close.

'Why?' asked Derek.

'Head injury,'

'Stiles you didn't sustain a proper head injury, you nearly drowned…there's a difference.' Replied Derek.

'No there isn't,' said Stiles.

'Don't you think you're milking it now?'

Stiles let out a soft laugh 'Is that a problem?

'No,' replied Derek, seeming to finally relax underneath him. Derek slowly reached out his arm and pulled Stiles to his chest.

Stiles let out a content sigh, feeling properly warm for the first time in days. The sound of Derek's fast heart beat was almost soothing him to sleep. Just before he drifted off, Stiles muttered one last thing under his breath. 'Wolverine was such a cliché choice dude.'

He can't help but smile as he hear Derek's chest rumble with laughter underneath him.

**TW**

Stiles woke up to find the room dark and the TV screen showing the end credits to what he assumes is still Wolverine. He feels as if he has been submerged into a warm bath and snuggles even closer to his source of warmth. Derek…who now has become Stiles's new personal pillow lets out an odd noise. And his hand that seemed to have been moving in Stiles hair stills.

'Hey,' said Stiles softly, looking up at unreadable green eyes.

'Hey,' replies Derek.

'I missed you,' the words leave Stiles lips before he could stop them. 'In the other world, you were there but you weren't you.'

'Wasn't that a good thing?' asked Derek.

'No,' replied Stiles. 'He wanted me to stay with him. But I said no.'

The look in Derek's eyes is relief. 'Did you want to stay?'

Stiles looked up at the ceiling. 'For a moment I thought I did. But I couldn't live in a world without Scott, without you.' Stiles was pretty sure the medication he was on was making him loose lipped. He had only briefly spoken to his Dad and Scott about the other universe; it was still a painful subject for him.

'Okay,' asked Derek, but he was already retreating in on himself.

Stiles sat up and looked him straight in the eyes. 'The other you, he was open and a bit awkward. I always seem to put my foot in my mouth when I said something that wouldn't matter if I said it to you. He wanted me to stay with him; he wanted me as more than just a friend. He hid a way of getting home from me and instead tried to make a move on me.'

In seconds Derek was out of the bed, pacing in the middle of the bedroom floor with his eyes glowing blue. 'Did the two of you?' he asked, his voice low.

'No, because he wasn't you.' Said Stiles quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe he'd misread things. 'He was like a warm and fluffy Derek clone Derek, but I didn't want that…I want someone who isn't selfish and who might take me a while to figure out but will be totally worth it at the end, someone who wouldn't think twice about saving my life, calling me out on my shit…I wanted you Derek.'

Derek finally stopped pacing and instead stormed over to the bed. For a moment Stiles is unsure whether he is going to rip his throat out or kiss him into a coma. Stiles licked his dry lips and is about to open his mouth to say something, when Derek is suddenly on top of him and their lips are moving together. This kiss is different to his kiss with the other Derek; it is more intimate and filled with so many more words that have been left unsaid. Stiles's heart practically feels like it is going to beat right outside of his chest with how right it all feels.

'Dude,' said Stiles, as he breathlessly pulled away for a moment. 'Are you jealous of yourself?'

Derek replies by placing his lips back onto Stiles's, biting down hard on the bottom of Stiles's lip and causing him to arch up.

'Because,' says Stiles, as Derek's hands begin to roam all over his body, 'There's no comparison.'

Derek lets out a growl, as his lips make their way down to Stiles's neck. He tugged at Stiles's shirt and pulled it right off. 'You nearly died and now you tell me some other me tried to claim you as his own…how do you expect me to react?'

'This was is good,' said Stiles as Derek's lips once again covered his own in a kiss that sends warmth right down to the tips of his toes. 'Just to check,' said Stiles breathlessly, as Derek's tongue ran down his neck. 'We are about to do many unspeakable things in many different positions, aren't we?'

'Shut up Stiles,' replied Derek, placing his mouth back on his.

When this time Derek's hand dips low towards his trouser waistband Stiles says yes instead of no.

**TW**

Sheriff Stilinski had gone through a lot of pain in his life: he had lost his wife, lost the boy who he'd seen as a second son and for two years lost Stiles to his own mind. So as he slips into the chair next to Melissa on graduation day, he couldn't be more proud. A year ago he never thought he would be here, never thought he'd get his boy back like he did. Stiles had come back to him and then went on to have an accident at the vets loosing his memories of his recovery over the last few months. Why Stiles was at the vets that day, John would never know; but it was obviously something to do with the werewolf crap him and his friends were now involved in.

John gave Derek a swift nod as he slipped into the seat next to him. After the accident Derek hadn't left his son's side, even though he had no idea who the man was. When John had questioned him about it, Derek has simply said 'we look out for each other, it's what we do.' Derek was now training to be the town's new deputy Sheriff and was growing as a person, just like his son was. Although that hadn't made it any better when a month ago he'd walked in to find Derek and his son making out on the sofa in a state of undress. He'd called it months ago, but it still didn't stop him giving a lecture while he fingered his gun the entire time. Werewolf or not, John was going to put multiple bullets into Derek if he ever hurt his son.

A group of kids surrounded his son just before the ceremony; John knew most of them seen as they spent most their time round his house eating pizza…pizza he wasn't allowed any of. The kids had seem to have stuck to his son like glue after he'd come out of hospital for a second time, making his son believe again that there could be life after Scott. That there was hope even in the darkest days. John would never be able to thank them enough after that.

'How's Stiles holding up?' whispered Melissa to him.

'Okay, though he ate four portions of curly fries this morning.' Replied John.

'Isaac felt too sick to eat, although I think he's relieved he got held back a year and got to graduate with Stiles' replied Melissa. 'I wrote to his Dad in rehab and asked him to come, but he said no.'

'Maybe it's for the best.' Replied John.

'I think so.' Said Melissa.

As the ceremony began a hush settled over the field. As the names were read a polite cheering came afterwards, but none were as loud as when Stiles took to the stage. His friends sitting nearly the front row stamped their feet and even Derek joined in with making the noise as loud as possible. John was on his feet before he could stop himself.

'That's my boy!' he shouted, thumping Derek on the shoulder.

When all the names were read but one, a hush came across the proceedings. The principle stepped forward with one last certificate. A special certificate that his son had to fight tooth and nail for.

'Scott McCall.'

Stiles practically leapt out of his seat and stumbled up the stage to take the certificate for his lost best friend. John felt Melissa's hand slip into as Stiles grabbed the certificate and held it up to the sky.

'This one's for you buddy,' he said softly into the microphone, his eyes wet with tears.

He stepped down from the stage and a slow clapping began to rise from the crowd. John couldn't stop himself from smiling as Stiles practically ran down from the stage and threw himself into Derek's waiting arms. Things would never be the same and in some ways they would always be hard. But they would survive and adapt, because that's what Stilinski's did.


End file.
